My Teenage Babysitter Whore

My wife Lisa and I had been married almost six years when the twins came along. Before the girls, we fucked like animals—morning, night, sometimes in the middle of the day when I came home for lunch and bent her over the kitchen counter. She used to beg for my cock, ride me until her thighs shook, swallow every drop when I came down her throat. Then the twins were born and everything changed. Two screaming babies, sleepless nights, the constant exhaustion. Her body recovered, even got thicker in the hips and tits the way I loved, but her hunger for sex dried up. Once a month if I was lucky. Sometimes I’d go six weeks with nothing but my hand and the memory of how tight her cunt used to grip me.

I was climbing the walls. Forty-two years old, still hard as iron every morning, and my wife treated my cock like it was a chore. I’d wait until she and the girls were asleep, then lock myself in the bathroom and stroke it to porn, cumming into a wad of toilet paper and flushing the evidence. It was pathetic. I loved Lisa. I loved our daughters. But I needed to fuck.

Then she hired Christy.

Christy was eighteen, a redhead with green eyes that always looked a little too knowing for a girl her age. Cheerleader body—long legs, tight ass, high firm tits that sat up without a bra. She jogged every morning and it showed in the way her thighs flexed when she walked. Lisa found her through a neighbor. Reliable, good with kids, lived three blocks over. Perfect.

The first night she babysat, Lisa and I had a work party for my boss. Charity thing, black-tie, the kind of night where smiling and shaking hands mattered more than anything. Lisa looked fucking stunning in a tight black dress that hugged every new curve. I spent the whole evening hard, watching her laugh at some asshole’s joke and thinking about bending her over the bathroom sink when we got home. I already knew it wouldn’t happen. It never did anymore.

We got back a little after midnight. The house was quiet. I went in first while Lisa lingered outside talking to the neighbor. The twins were out cold in their cribs. I walked toward the living room and froze.

Christy’s boyfriend—Jeff, some skinny college kid—was coming out of the hallway bathroom carrying a used condom pinched between two fingers. He didn’t see me. He flushed it, washed his hands, and walked back out like nothing had happened. Christy was on the couch straightening her skirt. Both of them fully dressed, but the air still smelled like sex—sweat and cum and that sharp wet scent of a freshly fucked girl.

Christy looked up and saw me. Her green eyes went wide for half a second, then she smiled like nothing was wrong.

“Hey, Mr. Hale. Girls were angels. Went down around eight-thirty.”

I nodded at Jeff. “Who’s this?”

“My boyfriend. He just stopped by to check on me. You know, alone with two little ones and all.”

I shook his hand. Didn’t say a word about the condom. Jeff left a few minutes later for some night shift. Lisa came in, saw him going, and her face tightened. She waited until the door closed.

“Christy. No boys in the house when you’re watching the girls. Ever. Clear?”

“Yes, Mrs. Hale. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Lisa softened a little. “Alright. One free pass. Kip, can you drive her home? I’m wiped.”

I said sure. Changed into cut-off shorts and a T-shirt—no underwear, because the night was warm and I was still half-hard from watching my wife all evening. Christy grabbed her bag and followed me out to the car.

We were two blocks from the house when she spoke.

“Lisa’s been really crabby lately.”

“Yeah. The girls take a lot out of her.”

“Thank God you didn’t come home earlier. She would’ve lost it.”

I glanced over. “Why’s that?”

Christy bit her lip. “Me and Jeff… we were doing something on the couch.”

“Fucking?”

She blushed hard, but she didn’t look away. “Yeah. He was gone a week. I was horny. We can’t do it at our places.”

I kept my eyes on the road. “How often do you two fuck?”

“Three times a week, maybe. Sometimes more.”

“Jesus. Somebody likes to screw.”

She laughed, low and dirty. “I like sex. A lot. Is that bad?”

“You’re a little young to be handing out pussy that freely.”

“We use condoms. And I’m eighteen. Legal.” She shifted closer on the seat. “How often do you and Lisa do it?”

I almost didn’t answer. Then I did. “Once a month if I’m lucky. Lately less.”

Christy’s hand landed on my thigh. Then higher. She cupped my cock through the thin shorts and squeezed.

“I could do something about that,” she said. Voice husky. “I don’t have to be home right away. We could pull over somewhere.”

My dick jumped under her palm. “Christy. You’re a teenager. I’m married.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” She rubbed me slow, feeling me thicken. “I just fucked Jeff and it wasn’t even that good. I’m still wet. And you said you’re not getting any.”

I should have pushed her hand away. Instead I looked for a place. Found one of those no-tell motels that rented by the hour on the edge of town. Got a room around back. Keycard, peeling wallpaper, bed that creaked when we sat on it. I locked the door.

Christy was on me before the lock clicked. Mouth open, tongue pushing past my teeth, hand already down the front of my shorts wrapping around my cock. I yanked her shirt up. No bra. Perfect little tits, pale pink nipples already hard. I sucked one into my mouth and groaned. She arched into me, fingers tight around my shaft, stroking like she already owned it.

“Fuck, your mouth feels good on my tits,” she whispered. “Suck harder.”

I did. Bit the nipple just enough to make her hiss, then switched to the other. She shoved my shorts down. My cock sprang free, thick and veined and already leaking. She stared at it like she was starving.

“God, it’s bigger than Jeff’s.” She dropped to her knees on the cheap carpet and took me into her mouth without another word.

Hot. Wet. Perfect. She swallowed me to the root on the first try, nose pressed to my stomach, throat working around the head. I grabbed her red hair and held on. She bobbed slow at first, tongue swirling under the ridge, then faster, spit running down my balls. The sounds she made were filthy—wet gulps and soft moans like sucking cock was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

“Jesus Christ, Chris… fuck, your mouth…”

She pulled off just long enough to grin up at me, lips shiny. “Lisa doesn’t suck you like this, does she?”

“Not in years.”

“Good.” She deep-throated me again and stayed there, humming, throat fluttering. I almost came. Had to yank her off by the hair.

“On the bed. Clothes off. Now.”

She stood and stripped in seconds—skirt, no panties underneath, just a smooth pink slit already glistening. I pushed her onto her back and spread her thighs. Shaved smooth except for a neat little landing strip of red hair. Pussy lips puffy, clit already peeking out. I buried my face in it.

Christy cried out the second my tongue hit her. I licked long and slow from asshole to clit, then focused on the hard little bud, sucking it between my lips while two fingers pushed into her cunt. Tight. So fucking tight, and soaked. She was still creamy from Jeff earlier. I didn’t care. I finger-fucked her hard while I ate her, curling against the front wall until her thighs clamped around my head and she came with a broken moan, gushing against my chin.

“Fuck—Kip—oh my God—”

I didn’t stop. Kept licking through the aftershocks until she was shaking and trying to push my head away. Then I stood, wiped my mouth, and flipped her onto her stomach. Pulled her hips up. Lined my cock up against that dripping hole and slammed in to the hilt in one thrust.

She screamed into the pillow. I didn’t give her time to adjust. I fucked her like I’d been dying for it—hard, deep, brutal strokes that made the headboard slam the wall. Her cunt gripped me like a fist, wet sounds filling the room every time I bottomed out. I reached under and found her clit, rubbing circles while I pounded her.

“You like that, you little whore? Taking your boyfriend’s cum and then begging for mine?”

“Yes—fuck yes—harder—”

I grabbed a fistful of red hair and yanked her head back. “Say it. Tell me what you are.”

“I’m your whore—your teenage whore—fuck my cunt, Kip, please—”

I lost it. Pounded her until the bed frame screamed. Her second orgasm hit hard; she clamped down so tight I saw stars. I pulled out, flipped her onto her back, shoved her knees to her shoulders, and drove back in. Watched my thick cock stretch her little pink hole. Watched her tits bounce. Watched her face contort every time I hit bottom.

“Gonna cum in you,” I growled. “Fill this tight babysitter pussy.”

“Do it—cum in me—I want it—”

I buried myself as deep as I could and exploded. Thick ropes of cum pumping into her, so much it started leaking out around my shaft before I was even finished. I stayed inside, grinding, emptying every drop. When I finally pulled out, a thick white river slid out of her and down over her asshole.

Christy lay there panting, thighs open, my cum dripping out of her. She reached down, scooped some up with two fingers, and sucked them clean while she looked me in the eye.

“Better than Jeff,” she said. “A lot better.”

I fucked her twice more that night before I drove her home. Once with her riding me, tits bouncing in my face while she ground her clit against my pubic bone and came so hard she cried. Once bent over the edge of the bed while I spanked her ass red and told her she was my dirty little secret. She came both times. Swallowed every drop when I finished in her mouth the last time.

I dropped her off at her parents’ house at three in the morning. She kissed me at the door like we’d just been on a date.

“Same time next week?” she asked, lips still puffy from sucking my cock.

I should have said no. I said yes.

That was the beginning.

After that first night, Christy became a regular. Lisa was thrilled—someone reliable so we could actually go out again. She never suspected a thing. Every Friday or Saturday I’d drive Christy home after the twins were down, and we’d end up in that same motel or, later, parked in the dark behind the old industrial park where no one ever went. Sometimes we’d only have twenty minutes. Sometimes an hour. It was never enough.

She was insatiable. Eighteen and already a complete slut for cock. She’d text me during the week—photos of her fingers in her pussy, captions like “thinking about your thick dick stretching me” or “wish you were here filling me up right now.” I’d be sitting at the dinner table across from Lisa and the girls with a raging hard-on, phone buzzing in my pocket.

One night Lisa had a migraine and went to bed early. Christy was still there putting the twins down. I found her in the hallway outside their room. She took one look at my face and knew.

We didn’t even make it to a bed. I dragged her into the downstairs bathroom, locked the door, shoved her skirt up, and bent her over the sink. No condom. Just my bare cock slamming into that wet teenage cunt while she bit her own wrist to stay quiet. I watched us in the mirror—my older hands gripping her hips, her red hair in my fist, her face flushed and open-mouthed while I destroyed her. I came so hard my knees almost gave out, flooding her. She came right after, silent but shaking, pussy fluttering around me.

I pulled out. Cum ran down her thighs. She wiped it up with toilet paper, then looked at me with those wicked green eyes.

“You’re going to get me pregnant if you keep doing that,” she whispered.

“Then stop letting me cum in you.”

She smiled. “Never.”

We started getting bolder. One Saturday Lisa took the girls to her sister’s for the weekend. Christy “came over to help me with some yard work.” She showed up in tiny denim shorts and a sports bra, no bra underneath. We lasted maybe ten minutes outside before I had her on her knees in the garage sucking my cock while the garage door was still half open. Anyone walking by could have seen. She didn’t care. She deep-throated me until I shot down her throat, then stood up, spit my cum into her palm, and rubbed it into her tits like lotion.

“Your turn,” she said, and shoved the shorts down.

I bent her over the workbench and fucked her from behind until the tools rattled. She came twice. I pulled out and painted her ass with the second load, then made her walk back into the house like that—shorts pulled up over sticky cheeks, my cum drying on her skin.

Inside, I made her strip completely. Spread her out on the living room couch—the same one she’d fucked Jeff on the first night—and ate her until she was begging. Then I turned her over and took her ass for the first time.

She’d never done it. Tight as a fist. I went slow at first, using her own pussy juice as lube, working one finger, then two, then the head of my cock. When I finally pushed past the ring of muscle she whimpered, but she pushed back for more. I fucked her ass deep and slow while I reached around and rubbed her clit. She came harder than I’d ever seen her cum—whole body seizing, a broken sob tearing out of her throat. I filled her bowels with the third load of the day and held her while she trembled through the aftershocks.

After that, nothing was off limits.

She started wearing skirts with no panties when she babysat. Would sit on the couch with her legs tucked under her so that if I walked by I could see her bare cunt. Once, while Lisa was upstairs getting ready, Christy sucked me off in the kitchen pantry with the door cracked. I came in her mouth thirty seconds before Lisa walked in asking if anyone wanted coffee. Christy swallowed, wiped her lips, and smiled sweetly.